(27) THE HILL OF SCIENCE, A VISION. IN that season of the year when the fe renity of the sky, the various fruits which cover the ground, the discoloured foliage of the trees, and all the sweet, but fading graces of infpiring autumn, open the mind to benevolence, and difpose it for contemplation; I was wandering in a beautiful and romantic country, till till curiofity began to give way to wearinefs; and I fat me down on the fragment of a rock overgrown with mofs, where the rustling of the falling leaves, the dafhing of waters, and the hum of the diftant city, foothed my mind into the moft perfect tranquility, and fleep infenfibly ftole upon me, as I was indulging the agreeable reveries which the objects around me naturally inspired. I IMMEDIATELY found myself in a vast extended plain, in the middle of which arose a mountain higher than I had before any conception of. It was covered with a multitude of people, chiefly youth; many of whom preffed forwards with the livelieft expreffion of ardor in their countenance, though the way was in many places fteep and difficult. I observed, that those who had but juft begun to climb the hill, thought themselves not far from the top; but as they proceeded, new new hills were continually rifing to their view, and the fummit of the highest they could before difcern, seemed but the foot of another, till the mountain at length appeared to lose itself in the clouds. As I was gazing on these things with aftonishment, my good genius fuddenly appeared. The mountain before thee, faid he, is the HILL OF SCIENCE. On the top is the temple of Truth, whofe head is above the clouds, and a veil of pure light covers her face. Obferve the progress of her votaries; be filent, and attentive. I SAW that the only regular approach to the mountain was by a gate, called the 1 gate of languages. It was kept by a woman of a penfive and thoughtful appearance, whofe lips were continually moving, as though the repeated fomething to herfelf. Her name was MEMORY. On entering this first enclosure, I was stunned with a confused murmur of jarring voices, and and diffonant founds; which increased upon me to fuch a degree, that I was utterly confounded, and could compare the noife to nothing but the confufion of tongues at Babel. The road was also rough and ftony; and rendered more dif ficult by heaps of rubbish, continually tumbled down from the higher parts of the mountain; and broken ruins of antient buildings, which the travellers were obliged to climb over at every step; infomuch that many, difgufted with fo rough a beginning, turned back and attempted the mountain no more: while others, having conquered this difficulty, had no fpirits to ascend further, and fitting down on fome fragment of the rubbish, harangued the multitude below with the greateft marks of importance and felf-complacency. ABOUT half way up the hill, I obferved on each fide the path a thick foreft forest covered with continual fogs, and cut out into labyrinths, crofs alleys, and ferpentine walks, entangled with thorns and briars. This was called the wood of error and I heard the voices of many who were loft up and down in it, calling to one another, and endeavouring in vain to extricate themselves. The trees in many places fhot their boughs over the path, and a thick mift often rested on it; yet never fo much but that it was difcernable by the light which beamed from the countenance of truth. IN the pleasantest part of the mountain were placed the bowers of the Muses, whofe office it was to cheer the spirits of the travellers, and encourage their fainting steps with fongs from their divine harps. Not far from hence were the fields of fiction, filled with a variety of wild flowers fpringing up in the greatest luxuriance, of richer fcents and brighter colours |